


Salvation

by KateKintail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 00:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sat stiffly in the pew, looking past the stained glass windows to either side of him to see the golden cross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

**Author's Note:**

> Requester: x_posed_again

He sat stiffly in the pew, looking past the stained glass windows to either side of him to see the golden cross. Anxious, he gripped the wooden bench upon which he sat. He expected something miraculous to strike him. He expected this would make a difference, somehow. He expected to feel something more as he lit candles. He expected the blood to run off his hands at a touch of holy water. He expected the silence to be comforting. He expected some great lightning bolt of forgiveness or even some divine epiphany.  
  
However, it was just another visit to the church and yet another wasted evening. He sighed as quietly as his frustration would allow. Then he sprang to his feet and headed down the middle isle towards the great double doors leading out of the chapel. Instead of Apparating home, he walked the four blocks home, hoping that a brisk walk would do what an hour sitting in church could not.  
  
The weather was getting cooler, and the wind was crisp as it stung his cheeks. He shoes slapped the pavement, his pace brisk. Practice had been awful today, which had led to an abnormally long shower during which he thought about the things he tried to get over, which is what had landed him in church on his way home in the first place. But the weather had a way of reminding him about Quidditch, because the colder it got, the closer he got to the first game of the season. And if he didn't step up his game soon, he'd be off the team, not just sitting on the bench as a back-up player.  
  
Marcus Flint and Oliver Wood shared a townhouse in a magical district of Edinburgh. Since they played for different teams, they chose the location because it had all the excitement of a city but was not close to either team. The long distances both had to travel were worth it to reunite on neutral ground.  
  
Dinner was Chinese takeaway eaten together on the couch. They passed the containers back and forth, eating with forks because neither could maneuver with chopsticks well enough when hungry. Dessert was climbing into the tub together. They kissed for a while, as the water level and thick layer of suds rose, shutting off only just before overflowing.  
  
Then Oliver rested his head upon Marcus' strong, hairy chest. Marcus wrapped his arms around him tightly. "Tough day?"  
  
Oliver replied with a short, sad sound accompanied with a whisper. "Aye."  
  
Marcus hugged him closer, then petted his hair with a hand that was dripping wet. "I know."  
  
Oliver closed his eyes. Marcus did understand. Marcus understood it all. Not only that, but Marcus had done the same and worse. Marcus at least had redeemed himself by turning spy. And even though the deaths Oliver had been responsible for were those of Death Eaters, they were still more murders than Oliver had ever wanted to commit. In Marcus' arms, Oliver relaxed.


End file.
